Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
It probably won't surprise Remi to learn that, given Ronin's less than conventional upbringing, he can play more than just the lute, but that's a story for another time. (One where the sand in their hourglass together isn't dwindling so low, perhaps). He's not quite as focused on not mentally counting down the minutes, but there's an unspoken ticking in their conversation nonetheless, and he resists the urge to kiss away Remi's remark about having no respect for himself.
Instead, with the wendigo painting unseen pictures against his flesh and the knowledge that they are already far too familiar with one another, even without the flesh, Ronin smiles. "One day," he says, with all the gravitas of a fae despite not being one, "you won't have to go back." Braced over the other man, he reaches out to trace a soft thumb across Remi's cheekbone, before sighing softly.
"But for now, I suppose we ought to get dressed, right?"
Instead, with the wendigo painting unseen pictures against his flesh and the knowledge that they are already far too familiar with one another, even without the flesh, Ronin smiles. "One day," he says, with all the gravitas of a fae despite not being one, "you won't have to go back." Braced over the other man, he reaches out to trace a soft thumb across Remi's cheekbone, before sighing softly.
"But for now, I suppose we ought to get dressed, right?"
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
